


About an Hour to San Diego

by MDJensen



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Deb's the best, Gen, academy!Steve, teen!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 01:46:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDJensen/pseuds/MDJensen
Summary: It's been a few months since Steve's mom died, since his dad sent him to the Army and Navy Academy on the mainland. Deb visits; Mary doesn't.





	About an Hour to San Diego

Saturday comes, and Steve doesn’t think he’s been this excited in _years_. It’s like Christmas and his birthday and a field trip all in one. He plays it cool, of course, because that’s what you do here, but internally he’s more or less bouncing up and down. It’s the weekend. And he’s _actually got people coming_.

Not Dad. And yeah, that hurts, but he refuses to dwell on it because Aunt Deb’s coming and bringing Mary, and for the first time in the four months he’s been here, he’ll be the kid hugging his family in the parking lot. He’ll be the kid going off campus, coming back late to the dorms with leftovers and new stories and—

And holy crap, he can’t stop _smiling_.

It’s almost 0800, so Steve shovels down the rest of his breakfast, sees to his plate, says goodbye to his friends. He signs out with his TAC, gets his pass card (and thankfully resists the urge to kiss it.)

He probably doesn’t need to head out to the meeting area just yet, but he does, and does some jumping jacks to work off the extra energy while he waits for the arrival of those two familiar faces.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

Headed in from the parking lot he sees a mop of bright red hair, and a turquoise shirt, and he _runs_ , colliding with his aunt so hard he hears the air leave her lungs. But she doesn’t seem to mind. She hugs him close and plasters his cheeks and forehead with kisses, and the rock that’s been sitting in Steve’s stomach since Mom died feels tangibly lighter. Deb laughs, scrubs down his arms. Then she pulls back a bit, looks him up and down, and hugs him again.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Steve breathes out. “Aunt Deb. I _missed you_.”

“Same here, kiddo,” Deb replies, letting go for real this time, though she keeps a hand on his elbow. Steve’s cheeks are already sore from grinning. “How you holdin’ up?”

“I’m good. I’m better now. Where’s Mary?”

And he knows before she even answers, because the cheer just falls away from her face.

“Stevie,” Deb sighs. “Oh, honey. She couldn’t make it.”

“Oh.”

He doesn’t even process this at first, and finds himself hurting before he fully understands that he’s been hurt at all.

“Okay.”

“But you’ve still got your crazy old aunt, and we are gonna fly this coop and spend the day eating nonregulation food and seeing the town. Okay?”

“Yeah.” He tries to sound excited still—tries to _be_ excited still—but actually he kind of just wants to go back to bed now. Mary couldn’t make it? What does that even mean? His little sister, whom he hasn’t seen since _their mother’s funeral_ —what, had more important things to do?

No, Steve realizes. She didn’t have more important things to do. She just didn’t want to come.

“Whaddya say, Stevie?” Deb claps him on the back. “Carlsbad, and find a beach, maybe? Or road trip down to San Diego?”

“Carlsbad’s fine,” he gets out, shaking himself a little. Whatever Mary did, Deb’s still here; still drove God-knows-how-many hours just to give him a hug and take him out to lunch, and the last thing he wants to do is seem ungrateful. “I haven’t really been around town much.”

“Perfect. What say we get the lay of the land, then maybe have lunch on the beach?”

“That sounds great,” Steve says, and lets Deb shepherd him to her car.

At first they just wander a bit. And all else aside it’s nice to be off campus; not that he doesn’t like campus, but town has a more relaxed vibe. Still kind of stuffy—rich area, after all—but maybe a touch closer to Oahu than the school is. There’s tourists, and shops selling sunscreen, and junk food everywhere.

But the more he thinks about home, the more he thinks about Mary; and the more he thinks about Mary, the more miserable he gets. Until finally they come across a little park, and Deb gets him sitting on an out-of-the-way bench.

“Hey, kiddo,” she says, gently. “You can talk to me, you know.”

Right. He could, if he could talk _at all_ , but at the moment it feels like he’d choke if he tried to say so much as _good morning_.

Then Deb puts a hand on his back, rubbing it a little, and he wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t, until that. Now it seems he doesn’t have a choice. 

“Honey,” Deb coos, wrapping both arms around him. He should shake her off, he should, but all he can do is slump forward and hide against her shoulder. “It’s okay to be disappointed, Stevie. Or angry, or homesick, or whatever the hell you are. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“She hates me,” Steve sniffles. “And I don’t— I don’t know why.”

“Mary Ann doesn’t hate you, honey. She’s confused, she’s hurt, she doesn’t know how to handle it. But she doesn’t hate you.”

“I really— I really wanted to s-see her.”

A big ugly sob comes then, that he can’t swallow back; Deb tightens her arms, sways a little. 

“Sorry. Sorry, ‘m— I’m fine.”

Deb huffs. “No, you’re not, kiddo. And you don’t have to be. You’ve had a real rough go of it lately. If you want to know the truth, I told your sister it was pretty rotten of her to stand you up like this. You two need to stick together, now more than ever.”

“It’s not her fault.” He pulls away, starts mopping his face. “I know she’s just a kid.”

In his mind that sounds like the right thing to say, the cadet thing to say, the _mature_ thing to say—

But honestly? He fucking _hates_ this.

Hates his mom for dying. And his dad for sending him away. And Mary for not coming today, and Mary for never calling, and Mary for— Mary for—

Mary for being sent to live with family. With a wonderful woman who loves her and looks after her and probably hugs her every day and lets her talk about how much she’s hurting. Mary for her life with Aunt Deb while Steve’s here eating every meal in a mess hall and sleeping twelve to a room and hugging himself sometimes, clutching his arms around his waist, because otherwise he’s _completely_ without gentle touch. 

Hating Mary because he’s a kid too and it isn’t fucking fair. 

“Hey,” Deb whispers, because Steve’s really crying now. Like, _really_ crying. Didn’t let it get this bad at Mom’s funeral, or on the plane to the mainland. Hasn’t let himself cry _at all_ since getting to the academy, not even in the shower, not even in the middle of the night. 

This now, this feels like all those tears trying to come out at once, and it’s more than he can handle, and Deb rubs his back and talks quietly while he sobs until he actually thinks he’ll puke, or maybe just wither up and crumble into dust.

When it’s over his head is aching. There’s not only tears but snot and spit, too, running over his chin, down his neck; Deb pulls some tissues from her purse and cleans him up. 

He can’t talk yet. Can barely find the strength to keep his head upright, so Deb just takes his hand and tells him to rest a little while, to catch his breath, close his eyes if he’d like to. He does. He lets his eyelids slip together and tries to think of nothing but cool darkness, of Deb’s hand holding his like she’s never going to let go. 

When he finally opens his eyes he gets the feeling they’ve been closed for a while. 

Deb squeezes his hand. “Hey, Stevie,” she murmurs.

“Hey, Aunt Deb.”

“How you doin’?”

“Okay.” And he is, honestly, feeling a little bit better. For some reason. He flashes Deb a weak smile and she returns it, ten times stronger, and pats his cheek.

“My boy,” she hums. “Now, would you like to tell me? Or should I just assume that it’s exactly what I think it is?”

“I think—” he’s cut off when his lungs suck in a big gust of air without even being told to. He blows it out, slowly. “I think it’s probably what you think it is.”

“Okay. We can leave it there, then, if you’d rather.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, then can’t help adding, “I just think we should’ve stuck together, is all.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you should have too. And I did tell your father that. But his is not the easiest mind to change.”

“I know.”

“This place, your academy, it sounds good, though. What you’ve said when you’ve called, it seems okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” And that part’s true. “It’s great, honestly. The other guys, they’re awesome, and the classes are good, and—yeah, it’s good.”

Deb smiles. “Good. That’s good to hear, Stevie. But listen, you sound pooped.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, smiling back weakly. Emotional breakdowns, apparently, take more energy than you’d think; add it to four months of military training, and Steve’s exhausted. _Depleted_.

“Do you wanna head back?”

Steve doesn’t quite know what his face does then, but whatever it is it makes Deb laugh.

“Hey, hey, I was just offering. I didn’t expect a _yes_. Honey, I’ll stay the whole day with my favorite nephew. I’m not scared to drive back in the dark.”

Steve lifts his head, looks Deb in the eye—and sees nothing but sincerity, and concern, and love. None of which he was entirely braced for. Tears prick again, but before he can close back in on himself, Deb swoops him into her arms. He rests his forehead on her shoulder and just breathes.

“How does this sound,” Deb murmurs, right at his ear. “It’s about an hour to San Diego. Let’s just drive, huh? If you wanna sleep, you can sleep; if we see something nice on the way, we’ll stop there. If not we’ll get food in the city.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers. He’s not really a fan of long car rides, but that sounds too damn peaceful to resist.

“Okay. Oh, honey. I would’ve come to see you sooner if I’d thought—just, you always sounded happy on the phone. But that was stupid of me.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” Steve sniffles. “I—I am happy. Mostly.” He makes himself pull back. “I love the academy, Deb, and I can’t wait to be in the navy.”

“Good. I’m glad. But I still haven’t checked in as much as I should, and I will from now on. I—I don’t know if I ever said this, exactly. But I am sorry—you didn’t both end up with me, Stevie.” Deb’s whole face pales a little, loses its glow. “At first I thought I could only have Mary, but then I _hated_ that idea, so I made some plans—I called your dad to tell him I could take you both in, after all. But by then he’d enrolled you here. He said this would be better for you, anyway.”

Steve can only blink.

“But I love you. I really love you, Steve, and you can lean on me. I promise you can.”

“Okay,” Steve gets out, after half a minute spent swallowing back more tears. “I love you too, Aunt Deb.”

“Good. Okay, then. San Diego bound.” Deb gets to her feet, and reaches her hand down to pull Steve to his; that’s the exact opposite of the way it’s supposed to work, but he can’t bring himself to feel bad about it, this time.

He’s got a few good hours left. A drive down the coast, Deb all to himself, and no expectations of him, for a little while. He doesn’t have to be a cadet, be tough, be okay.

All he’s got to do is _be_.

**Author's Note:**

> All information about the academy itself was gleaned from five minutes spent on its website, so apologies for any inaccuracies :)


End file.
